


Tradtional

by ConsultingHound



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, M/M, There is no other excuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2013-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-05 06:49:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1090879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConsultingHound/pseuds/ConsultingHound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the author completely disregards canon and has Cas go to the bunker straight away, Charlie, Kevin and Sam are all still here and everyone has a happy Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tradtional

Christmas was a strange holiday.  After having so many years of not-really-but-kind-of-celebrating with just him and Sam (with the occasional appearance/call from Bobby), it was weird to be making a fuss.  Sam was the one that suggested the party idea but Dean maintained it was Kevin’s fault.  He was the one that had first started talking about little Christmas traditions be had with his mother and Sammy had gotten that damn wistful look and now here, they were, being so, so, _domestic_.

It wasn't a huge party: Himself, Sam, Kevin, Charlie, and Cas but it was bigger than any other holiday they’d had. 

It was times like these, being forced to wear reindeer antlers that Dean wondered why he bothered with anything at all. 

***

Of course the day before the party, Dean had been shoved towards the door with a shopping list and direct orders to not come back until he'd gotten every item.  He realised upon his return that it was mainly an excuse for Sam and Kevin to run around with what looked like the entirety of a Christmas warehouse in an effort to make their bunker seen from the other side of the continent.  Tinsel and fairy lights were everywhere and _where_ they found a tree that big he had no idea but it was covered in enough baubles to fill a small ocean liner.  He managed a tight smile for Sam and Kevin's sake as they looked at him with the same puppy-eyed excitement.  Sam must have been giving Kevin lessons or something because the similarity was downright creepy.

He couldn't even escape the revelry hiding in the archives as even Crowley was in a tinsel crown.

“Happy Holidays," the demon had snarled as he peeked in.

"Wow," Dean replied, laughing.  Maybe he _could_ get on board with this whole Christmas thing.  "If we put wings on you, can we put you on top of the tree?  You’d make a lovely tree topper."

"I thought you already had your own angel for that.  Oh wait I forgot," Crowley was trying his best to appear calm yet menacing but his usual prowess just didn’t have the same effect when he was all... _glittery_. 

"Hey, isn't it the season of good will toward all men?" Dean asked.

“I must have missed that memo.  Also if it is such a good season, then why am I decorated in blue tinsel!  Look they’ve even gone around your little trap in fairy lights,” Crowley spat.  Dean looked down and sure enough, they had. 

“Well you’ve got to admire their attention to detail,” he admitted, trying not to laugh but feeling anxious to the state of his own room.  Although his room wasn’t technically his room anymore because of-

Crowley grinned as he broke Dean’s thoughts.  “Where is the fallen one these days?  I would have thought he’d have swung by to say hello at least.”

“None of your business,” Dean said, glowering as he stormed out the door. 

***

Cas hadn’t taken well to being a human.  He’d arrived at the bunker in the frost and snow, his coat soaked through and malnourished.  Soon after he’d fallen sick.  Really sick.  Dean had offered up his room as a better alternative to Cas’ half finished one and he had been recovering in there ever since.  Under the care of what Dean considered his family, Cas was getting much better and while he wasn’t 100% just yet, he was far better than he had been. 

Dean knocked tentatively on his door. 

“Cas, you in there?”  

The door opened to reveal Castiel, in an odd, new combination of jeans, a t-shirt and a red jacket.  His habitual trench coat was hanging up on the wardrobe.  He’d taken to constantly wearing it and Dean hadn’t the heart to make him stop.  The tell-tale signs of his illness were still apparent though; the slight sniffle and redness about his nose.  It was annoyingly endearing. 

“Hello Dean,” he smiled, “How can I help you?”  Dean was pleased to see that inside his room, there were no blindingly colourful decorations.  It seemed Cas had had the sense to take responsibility over the room and had only a few pieces of tinsel strung across the walls with a small, plastic tree on the bedside table ( _where were they finding all these decorations from?_ ).

“Err, the um, the party is starting soon, if you’re feeling up for it.”

“I’m feeling much better now, thank you,” Cas replied, though his usual severe demeanour had lessened slightly.  “Just give me a moment.”  He walked over to a small pile next to the bed and gathered them up in his arms. 

“Presents,” he explained to answer Dean’s curious look, “I’ve been told it’s customary.”  

“That’s,” Dean didn’t quite know what to say.  “That’s real nice man.”

It was only when they were both just about to pass through the door when as looked up and halted, making Dean stop and turn back.

“You okay?” Cas merely nodded to the thing hanging from the door frame.

“Mistletoe,” Cas identified.  At least he’d retained the ability to point out the obvious. 

“Dammit Sa-”  Cas closed the gap and planted his lips on Dean’s, silencing him.  It was only chaste, not even a real kiss but it still left Dean feeling... _tingly._  (Winchesters, as a general rule did not feel tingly at a person kissing them but it was the only true word to fit what he was feeling).

“Sam also told me that was customary,” Cas said and Dean thought he saw him blushing.

“Yeah, I bet he did,” Dean grouched. 

It didn’t stop him from making extra special care to walk under every door he could find and it didn’t stop Cas from complying each and every time, with the same excuse of it being customary.  It also didn’t stop them from sitting awkwardly close at the table, which no one commented on (but everyone saw and made note of). 

Maybe this Christmas thing wasn’t _too_ bad, Dean found himself thinking, as he lounged on the couch watching Sam, Kevin and Charlie arguing over something on a laptop and with Cas asleep on his shoulder.  They might even try it again next year.  Although, he amended in his mind, _he_ would be in charge of the decorations.  


End file.
